I woke up and blinked away the dream. The painting reminded me that I was at Dzur Mountain, and I gradually recalled what I had agreed to do. I thought about getting up, decided I’d rather lie there and plan the day, realized I couldn’t make plans without some klava in me, and grumbled to myself about the necessity of finding klava in someone else’s house.
I am, you see, a lousy houseguest, mostly because I have a terror of being a lousy houseguest. I worry about whether I’m going to dirty a towel unnecessarily, or move someone’s footstool, or empty someone’s boiler, or use the last of the kerosene. I can’t really relax. Once, I found myself traveling with a young Dragaeran, and when I returned him to his family they insisted I stay with them for a few days on the floor of their little cottage, and I hated the experience more than I’ve hated several attempts on my life, including one or two successful ones. This was Sethra, whom I called a friend, but I still dreaded the thought of getting up and rummaging through her kitchen for klava.
So I remained in bed for a bit, giving myself a few minutes to remember yesterday’s meal, which put me in a better mood. Then I rose, dressed, and shuffled off through the corridors of Dzur Mountain, in search of the elusive Tukko, which was known to dwell near klava nests.
“You’re really weird when you wake up, Boss.”
“It’s taken you how many years to figure that out?”
I eventually treed the Tukko near the kitchen, and mumbled the secret password that would produce klava. As I stumbled back to the sitting room, I realized I had been hearing the sputter of the klava-boiler before I asked. The sitting room became brighter as I entered, though I could not identify where the light was coming from. That’s another one of those tricks I really like, although it was a bit brighter than I’d have chosen.
Ten very long minutes later a cup was in my hand, the steam coming up as wonderful in its own way as Valabar’s soup. Ten minutes after that, I realized that I was beginning to wake up.
“We going back to South Adrilankha today, Boss?”
“I don’t see any way around it.”
Rocza launched herself from my shoulder (I hadn’t even been consciously aware she was there, but that’s just because I’m used to her) and flew around the room a couple of times, before perching on the back of a chair.
“Loiosh?”
“She’s just restless.”
“Okay.”
I took a moment to recall what weapons I had secreted about my person. It wasn’t like years before, when I had dozens and knew exactly what and where each was without thinking about it, nor the more recent period when I carried only a couple of knives. This was an uncomfortable in-between time.
I drank klava and considered my next move, which led inevitably to a consideration of everything I didn’t know. My hand caressed the hilt of Lady Teldra; like before, a certain sense of her calm, warm presence made its way up my fingertips. Of all the things I didn’t know, she was, perhaps, the most important. One part of me believed that, so long as she was with me, I could walk anywhere in safety, that the Jhereg couldn’t hurt me. But there were Sethra’s words from yesterday, and, more than that, my memory kept returning to the sight of Morrolan, lying dead on the floor of an Adrilankha public house. He carried Blackwand. He’d been assassinated.
By a sorceress from the Left Hand.
And Aliera had been killed by a simple, old-fashioned dagger to the heart, while Pathfinder was with her.
And Sethra herself had returned, undead, from beyond Death-gate, so something must have killed her at some point. These statistics were not entirely encouraging.
To the left, there were those remarks Telnan had made, which kept going through my mind. He seemed much too simple to have been dissembling. Yes, I know, it could all be very clever deception. But I didn’t think so.
“Tell me, Teldra. Just what can you do?”
She didn’t answer. I’m not sure what I’d have done if she had.
Okay, best to assume, in spite of yesterday’s experience, that I was on my own as far as getting out of trouble was concerned. That way, any surprises would be pleasant ones, which I’ve always felt are the preferred sort.
I finished the klava and looked around for Tukko so I could ask for more. He wasn’t around. I made my own way to the kitchen, found what I needed, and engaged in the klava-preparation ritual, then returned to the sitting room, sat, and pondered the immediate future.
I moved away from grand strategy, as it were, and considered practical details for a while.
“Good morning, Vlad. I’ll get Tukko to clean that up and bring you some more. Did you burn yourself?”
I put my dagger away. “Good morning, Sethra. Not noticeably, and thank you.”
“You were quite lost in thought there. Or just jumpy?”
“Both,” I said. I sat down. Loiosh returned to my shoulder. Rocza gave me an offended look and remained perched on a chair. “Yeah, I was trying to figure out how I’m going to leave here. I don’t really want to remove the amulet while they’re looking for me, and that means I can’t teleport.”
She frowned. “I hadn’t thought of that. Morrolan’s window can get you back to Adrilankha easily enough.”
“How far is Castle Black from here?”
“A day’s ride.”
“Ride?”
“I keep a few horses stabled here. You’re welcome to borrow one.
“Ah. Yes. Horses.”
“Shall I have your trousers cleaned?”
“No, thanks. It’s just klava.”
“And klava stains don’t count?”
“You know, Sethra, sometimes I forget that you’re a woman.”
“There is no way I can possibly respond to that.”
“Um. Yeah, forget I said it.”
Tukko showed up with another cup, set it down next to me, gave me a look, and began cleaning up the broken crockery.
“Whatever you do, it might be easier if you made Castle Black your base of operations, though you’re certainly welcome here any t—”
“I won’t do that to Morrolan.”
“Do what?”
“A Jhereg, on the run from the Jhereg, taking refuge at Castle Black. Does that sound familiar, somehow? If not, ask Kiera. She’d understand.”
“Oh.” She frowned. “Yes, I see the problem.”
I nodded.
“She’s right, Boss.”
“About what?”
“You have started chewing on your thumb.”
I stopped chewing on my thumb.
“Sethra, can you do, I don’t know, something to keep them from spotting me for a bit while the amulet is off?”
“What did you have in mind?”
“Getting back there without spending weeks at it, and without being killed the instant I appear.”
“You mean, teleport you somewhere, and leave them confused about your location long enough for you to wear it again?”
“Well, long enough for me to wear it, and then get some distance from where the teleport landed me, yeah.”
“How much time are you thinking?”
“Twenty minutes?”
She looked doubtful. “I might be able to do that.”
“How about ten?”
She nodded. “I can give you ten.”
“That should work, then.”
“Where do you want to go?”
“I need to think about that. Somewhere where I can be hard to find ten minutes later.”
“But South Adrilankha, I presume?”
“Yes. Somewhere with a good supply of shops, but not Six Corners, because that’s where I’ll probably end up.”
She nodded as if she understood. Most likely she did.
I rubbed the purse I carried inside my cloak, feeling coins there. Yeah, I was okay; it would be embarrassing to run out of money, and gaining access to the rest of my hoard would be at least annoying, and maybe problematical. So, all right.